“It tastes better when you share,” Piper assured me. It didn’t. But watching her on a summer day eating ice cream may have been worth it.

After ice cream, Piper went swimming. Then she came home to a bath and dinner. While she was soaking the chlorine out, I leaned over the tub and Piper traced my face with her pruned fingers. “You know how come I know you’re my mom?” she asked.

“Because I’m bathing you and making your favorite ravioli for dinner?” I guessed.

“No. You have those lines on your face and those dark things under your eyes. All moms have those. That’s how I know you’re mine.”